


'Cause You're Broken Like Me

by Dream_addicted



Series: Hollywood Undead One Shots [5]
Category: Hollywood Undead (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Best Friends, Brotherly Love, Drug Use, Drugs, Friendship/Love, M/M, Non-Consensual Touching, References to Drugs, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Touching, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 09:01:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10682061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dream_addicted/pseuds/Dream_addicted
Summary: Sometimes errors can lead to good decisions, or sometimes they just trigger a new feeling that was almost unknown before. In any case, life have always had surprises for Johnny, and this time it came out as a single, simple, extremely shocking sentence that his girlfriend told him.Now the question is: what should he do?





	'Cause You're Broken Like Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mattypattun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattypattun/gifts), [AwokenMonster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwokenMonster/gifts).



George lifted a bit the whiskey bottle and looked it up to the light, observing fascinated the amber liquid move as he bent his wrist.

He looked at his reflection in the glass, at his own face: he seemed thoughtful, lost in his worries, that expression of doubt arising to the surface every time that there was something tormenting him.

And this time, there was.

The man sighed and poured another shot of Jack in his drinking glass, stopping only when the liquor was about to leak out and wet his hand. Then, with a fast movement, he took the shot and drank it one sip, hitting the table of his kitchen with the small glass as soon as he swallowed the alcohol.

There was something about that night that made Johnny feel...empty. He was supposed to be the wise man of the band, the smart ass of the group, but in that moment he felt like the dumbest guy on Earth, his knowledge completely worthless.

He thought about Asia, her face when she confessed him the truth. He initially couldn't believe the woman, a pure face of shock as he asked her again to repeat what she just said.

“George...I'm pregnant...”

Those words had been haunting the man for days, now. His girlfriend was expecting an answer to him, a clear and decisive one.

Should they take the baby?

George stared at the bottle of Jack in his right hand, his irises flashing of a brown shade as the amber light reflected in his blue eyes.

A baby...

How could he have a child if he wasn't even able to look after himself? God, he was one click away from being an alcoholic, drunk most of the nights and high the remaining ones. He knew that there was something wrong deep inside him, a small black cancer that was slowly consuming his flesh day after day...he didn't want to pass the same curse to an innocent, to a baby who was surely deserving more than a father like this.

Without talking of his bad temper...how many times did he and Aron have a violent argument over silly things? Being late at a concert, fucking under age girls, starting an argument with a fan and then ending up in a fight...he did all these things himself, but as soon as he saw someone else doing them, suddenly his rage would be triggered and his mouth talk on its own.

Was it again that he hated seeing himself in others? Possible...he didn't like the idea of not being unique, of being just another grain in the vast desert of people.

With a sigh, Johnny poured himself another shot, the liquid disappearing on his tongue and burning its way down his throat: he felt a sudden jolt of energy, but that sensation lasted only for a second, leaving him even more thirsty than before as soon as the whiskey disappeared in his stomach.

Asia, Asia...his Asia. She was so beautiful, so smart and clever, the right girl for a hard head like him, ready to fight and tame his anger with kisses and caresses, her tapered hands sliding over his skin and soothing his muscles in a way nobody else have ever done. He fucked a lot of girls, he lived his most wild and shameless nights in a hurricane of sex and passion, but Asia...she arrived and literally engulfed him in her spell, her beauty blinding him and taking his breath away.

George knew she was the right one for him from the deepest pit of his guts. However, there was always that small cancer, that dark part of him, that pushed the man to sin again, sin without restrictions, careless of the consequences and the things he could lose if he kept going like this.

Father.

He didn't deserve this name, he felt that he was not worth of it.

To the eyes of his children, a father is like a God. He is the man that protects his love from the world's violence, from the evil and the sorrow, a man not scared of the dark and ready to die for his kids' lives.

But how could he fight the darkness...if he had a part of it contaminating his soul?

Another shot, another bright flesh of energy, then the emptiness again.

A child, his child, blood of his blood and flesh of his flesh.

Did the world deserve another sinner like him? Did that child deserve sorrow, the only things he was able to give?

Johnny emptied the bottle, a sensation of lightness pervading his head. He knew that thinking while being drunk was the worst thing to do, but at the moment he couldn't care less about his own sake.

He wished Asia was there with him. He would have taken her, kissed her with his lips tasting like alcohol, his hands grabbing her from the thighs and pushed her against the counter. He wished she was there to make love with her again and again, in the vain attempt of eradicating that cancer from his body, hoping that her love would have fucking finally cured him.

But Asia wasn't there, nobody was there, only him and his worries.

Only him and his drugs.

The man got up from the chair and stumbled up to the living room, leaning on the smooth white walls while walking, a suffering and drunk moan escaping his mouth.

There were too man thoughts in his head, so pressed and condensed one against the other that it almost hurt. No, he had to erase them, to fucking get rid of all that trash that was poisoning his reason.

He plopped down for a second on the couch, cursing in a whisper as he stood up again and staggered towards his room, opening the door with a kick and rushing towards his bed.

George collapsed on the floor, but managed to land on his knees, his face now at the level of the mattress. With a trembling hand, the man lifted the pad and wandered his fingers under it until he touched something similar to plastic.  
With a triumphant grin, Johnny grabbed the small package and pulled it out, looking satisfied at the white pills in it.

He then barely managed to get up on his legs and got closer to his nightstand, throwing away on the ground the pile of books occupying it. He turned on the lamp and blinked a few times for the sudden violent light, his head spinning for a moment as he adjusted himself.

His shaking fingers opened the bundle and took one pill out of it, using the spine of one of the book fallen to crush it and reduce it to some grainy powder, his free hand going immediately to open the drawer and search for what he needed.

Everything would have been fine: a banknote, a credit card, even just a piece of paper.

However, his fingers touched something more sharp, something that shouldn't have been there.

A razor?

Startled, the man shifted for an instant his attention from the Ecstasy to the object he was holding in between his fingers. What were doing a couple o stained razors in his room?

Then, the answer popped up in his brain, a bit late, but still there.

Jay.

He had probably mistaken his room with Johnny's one while he was drunk. It wasn't something new, it happened quite frequently since they lived together, but George had no idea that the friend was still into that shit of cutting himself.

Oh well, not that he was doing any better.

A razor would have been fine. He didn't know why, but Johnny felt a thrill as soon as he thought that he would have used Jay's blood to cut his lines of Ecstasy.

No, it wasn't really his blood, it was just a piece of metal stained in red, but the effect was the same and Johnny liked the idea. He shrugged at the little insane voice in his head that was reminding him of how much a sick man he was and continued with his job. He searched for a bit more inside the drawer and finally found a five dollar note, rolling it and putting it aside on the bed.

Cutting lines while he was boozed wasn't surely a good idea. His fingers were not firm and the razor's blade was extremely thin, some grains escaping his attention and ending up lost on the smooth surface of the nightstand.

Then, with goofy movements, the man leaned over and dropped the razor on the floor, his head less than an inch away from the drug. He used a finger to close his left nostrils and then, with a smirk, Johnny grabbed the rolled note and used it to inhale the first line up his nose.

He waited for some minutes, his naris tickling and dry, his eyes moving around his room in search of something that could occupy his mind until the Molly would have kicked in. He gazed for some seconds at the empty bed next to him, the white sheets stained of something that was probably alcohol or food, it was impossible to say.

Then, it happened.

It was as if he had just been slapped right on the face, the drug circulating for some seconds in his lungs and then sending an electric jolt right to every single fucking cell of his brain, lighting them up an sending him into overdrive.

Johnny moaned in pleasure and fell back, alcohol and Ecstasy mixing up together in his mind and literally destroying every single logical reasoning.

No more bad thoughts.

Heaven.

Another one, fucking God he needed another one.

Rushing to the nightstand and grabbing again the note, the man went down with another line, the blown to his head now stronger and more violent.

Oh fuck! Holy shit, this is what he fucking needed. Oh God yes...he loved it, he loved it from the deep of his bones.

Another one, please another one. The last one, this was surely the last one.

He tried to get up, since his ass had fallen on the pavement again, but both alcohol and Molly were impeding him from controlling his limbs correctly. George tried, but he failed for a second time, a deep growl rumbling in his chest as he felt a sting of frustration burning inside him.

He wanted a goddamn last line, for fucking God's sake. He had to get up.

With a grunt, the man grasped at his bed and finally managed to lift himself up a bit, getting closer to the nightstand where his loved Ecstasy was shining under the lamp light.

The note, he just needed to grab his note and fucking use it. Simple like breathing.

Simple like...like...?

Suddenly, he felt two powerful hands grab him from under his arms, dragging him away from the precious powder he needed so bad. Johnny growled threatening and tried to squirm away, but the stranger who was literally pulling him away was surely not drunk neither high.

“Ya..ya slut...lemme go...” uttered Johnny angry, kicking and pushing, still entrapped by those arms. 

Then, without a warning, the stranger was gone and George fell down with his back on the ground, his head hitting the hard pavement. He groaned, both in need and in pain, trying to get up but failing in doing so.

“Ya...fucka” 

He wasn't even able to talk, but not a sound came back to his ears. Was it possible that the stranger he saw was a projection of his mind, another one of those hallucinations that usually tormented him?

“Shut the fuck up, idiot”

Well, unless his mind was able to reproduce Jay's voice, there was little space for doubt.

Johnny remained motionless on his back, whining pitifully and begging the friend to help him to get to the drug. He saw the slender silhouette of the other man walk at his side and then, with a flicker and an annoyed grunt, the light was gone, his room almost completely immersed in full darkness.

George groaned and tried to get up, managing in doing so, but stumbling around the room only for few seconds, falling down on his knees and then on his side.

The beer, the shots, the whiskey and the ecstasy were now mixing up in his veins and brain, leaving the man confused in a dazed hale, unable to fully understand or react to what was happening. His eyelids were so damn heavy, his muscles sloppy and even too relaxed, his head hurting as if someone just kicked him on the teeth.

It was too much: his body wasn't used to such high quantities of alcohol and drug in one time, trying to process them, but resulting only in a sorrowful and constant pain in the chest.

“Fottuto idiota. Cosa cazzo credevi di fare...”

Jay's voice arrived muffled to his ears, the man too confused to even answer or understand that. He knew that the friend was able to say some shit in Italian, but he never really comprehended a single word, and now he was feeling even too tired to try.

His mouth was dry and his movements all clumsy and goofy. It was is first time trying Ecstasy, but even if it felt so damn good, he was feeling also awful in some way. Physically, he was like shit; mentally, all his thoughts and worries were gone, eaten by that wonderful numbness.

He looked around and saw Jay crouched next to the nightstand, busy in wiping away the white powder and get rid of the pills and the razors. George tried to protest, but his lips were all chapped and glued together, only a pitiful sigh coming out from his throat.

After some seconds, Jorel got up and shoved in his hoodie pockets both the razors and the package, walking across the room and kneeling next to Johnny. The man looked up to the friend and saw his brown eyes full of pity, his head shaking as he started talking.

“George, what the fuck were you doing? What if Asia came home instead of me? What kind of impression would she have had of you?”

Johnny moaned in pain, closing his eyes and denying that answer access to his mind. He didn't want to think about Asia, about the baby, about paternity and family and stuff.

He just wanted to fade away, at least for tonight.

Jorel sighed and reached out his arms, lifting George by his shoulder and helping him to stand up. Johnny used the wall as a support and finally managed to get up.

“To the sofa” Jay said, literally carrying the other out of the room to the couch, letting George plop down on it with a suffering face.

“Jay” whined the friend, his left hand closing on Jorel's arm as he pulled his sleeve. 

He didn't want Jay to go away, he needed somebody with him in that moment, somebody that could comfort him.

He didn't want to be alone.

With a stronger pull, the man dragged Jay on the couch, the friend cursing as he tried to get free of Johnny's hold.

“Let go...” he spat out, George immediately obeying and retracting his hand, almost scared, his blue eyes out of focus and his mind confused.

“I want you to stay” managed to spell Johnny, his tongue darting out to lick his own dry lips. Jay puffed and nodded, adjusting himself on the couch and glaring back at Johnny.

“Idiota” Jay said, the message arriving to the friend, George laughing amused by the rapper's annoyance.

This was so sick, so damn sick. It felt good, it felt bad, it felt like having a razor cutting your insides slowly. It was completely crazy and without a meaning, his head now lighter than it has ever been. Johnny didn't care about the pain, he literally didn't give a fuck about the sorrow twisting in his chest: everything that he loved in this moment was being there, completely out of mind, dirty down to his bones, sitting with Jay on that goddamn couch.

He reached out a hand and touched Jay's arm, his rough fingers sliding from the sleeve to the naked skin, caressing the colorful tattoos and brushing against the rough scars, lighter around his wrists like bracelets.

“Why d'you cut yarself?” he muttered, Jorel looking back at him with a surprised look, his anger and disappointment from before now vanished.

“Why do you keep getting high and drunk?” he asked, his brown eyes sharp and shining. 

Johnny muffled a grunt, his free hand still on Jay's forearm.

“Cause I can't stand the pain” 

“It's the same for me”

“But doesn't cutting hurts?”

“Yeah”

“Then why do you do it?”

“Cause feeling pain is better than feeling empty, it washes away the inner sorrow and it makes it appear on the surface”

Johnny stood in silence, fingertips moving uncertain on Jorel's wrist, feeling his pale and whitey scars. It was nice sensing that flesh under his hand, the movements soothing him a bit.

“We are friends, are we?” Johnny asked, receiving a nod from the other.

“Yeah, George, we are”

“Asia is pregnant”

Jay's eyes popped up open in shock, his face now a mask of pure surprise.

“You sure?” he asked concerned, even more incredulous about the subject than Johnny. The man chuckled and answered a soft yes, Jorel leaning back on the couch with eyes wide open.

“Cazzo...”

Johnny didn't understand the word but understood the meaning and the tone, relaxing on the couch, his body unable to move more than that.

“Indeed...whatever that means”

“It means that you're fucked up, man” said Jay, snapping his head towards Johnny.

“What are you gonna do? Take the baby?”

George felt his head go numb for a second, his whole brain hurting as he tried to fight back the effects of Ecstasy. He sighed and shrugged, reaching his hand out even more to touch now Jay's inner forearm, where the scars were more evident and thick.

“I don't know, should I?” He asked, looking up to the friend's face, suddenly fascinated by those dark irises, almost black, that were trying to figure him out. Jay stood silent for some seconds, thinking before giving an answer.

“Personally, I don't like the idea of killing. Abortion would mean to cancel from existence the possibility of life, and even if this is not really a bad thing, since the baby is still not born, it still means something to me...”

Johnny stared at him thoughtful, reflecting upon what the friend just said. Should he keep that child?

Suddenly, Jay snapped back away, a strange face put on: surprised, George noticed only in that moment that he had started caressing right over his wrist and palm, almost entangling hands.

Johnny made an apologetic face, retracting his hand on his own lap, letting Jay get comfortable on the couch again.

“Sorry, man. I...didn't know why I did it” he said, the other man just shrugging.

“It's fine, just don't do it. It's...too weird like this”

“What do you mean?” George asked, probably the Ecstasy making him be so fucking curious: he usually didn't care that much about such comments. 

Jay sighed and looked away.

“When we do it in front of the fans it's fine cause we all know it's fake. But gestures have meanings in them, and you...you were too serious about what you were doing”

Johnny tilted his head.

“I still didn't get it” he whispered, reaching the hand for a second time, touching Jay's inner forearm again, feeling the soft flesh under his fingers.

“Don't you like it if I do this?” he asked, moving his fingertips in circles over the sensible skin, Jay jumping a little, but not pulling back.

“It's...weird”

“Why?” Johnny smiled, seeing how his movements were making Jay shiver. He was touching right over his wrist, caressing the back of the hand and then going back up to the inner forearm, following the same pattern over and over.

“Because you mean it” Jorel answered, his eyes fixed on his own arm like hypnotized. Johnny didn't manage to hold back a grin, the drug making everything feel amplified, especially the thrilling he was feeling in making Jay feel strange, almost uncomfortable.

“In what sense?” he kept asking, trying to get out of Jay's lips what he wanted to hear.

“In the sense that you're trying to please me with it” Jorel frowned, now really pulling back his arm, Johnny a bit startled and confused by the sudden movement, his hand still lifted in the empty air.

“I don't like it” Jay explained, the words making Johnny a bit upset. The man just shook his head and shrugged, leaving Jay stroking his own inner arm as if he was trying to get rid of George's touch.

Johnny grunted and leaned back on the couch, closing eyes and sighing deep.

“Imma take the baby” he finally stated, Jay now gulping startled and looking at him puzzled.

“Really?” he asked, George chuckling to himself, happy to have been able to surprise the friend.

“Yeah”

Few moments of silence, Johnny letting himself go to the absence of sounds and images, his brain fluctuating in a bubble of pure relax.

He loved this drug, he should have tried it before.

“Why?”

Jay's voice came almost muffled to his ears, but still comprehensible. Johnny opened his right eye and looked with a smug face to the friend.

“Because...if I can make you like me, maybe I can do the same with my child”

Jorel frowned and made an upset face, holding against his stomach the forearm Johnny touched.

“I didn't like what you did”

Johnny just smiled and grinned to himself, shaking his head to the confused face of the friend.

“You cannot understand it because you're sober and you are denying the truth, but to me...it is so damn clear that you liked it” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments.  
> BAD, BAD, BAD PROOF-READERS!


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